Erect Posing For Artists

Four years ago, at age 32, my wife finally became pregnant. But something went terribly wrong. After a long struggle, she died, childless. Of course I was devestated, but also financially ruined. The medical and insurance systems in America are so terrible you almost have to laugh. I lost a lot more than my wife. We lost our savings, our home, I even had to sell her car, then mine, buying a junky old pickup truck to replace it. I was living in a crappy studio apartment. Because I took time off to support her, I also lost my career. When I came back, things had changed. I couldn't get clients anymore. So, I took to doing odd jobs. I barely made ends meet, but the crazy thing is, I do believe I was having more fun  then when I worked in an office. Every job was different. My first odd job was for a resident at a retirement home. I took his car for an oil change. He told his friends, and they had odd jobs for me. Anything from shopping, to cleaning out garages and unfortunately, apartments where someone has died. I took a job as an art model. A group of a dozen women meet weekly to draw or paint, and they have enough money to hire live models. They like it in the traditional sense, which is to say nude. Yes, I had to pose nude for a bunch of old ladies. Hey, I needed the money. That doesn't mean I still didn't feel all weird, self-conscious, even freaked out about it. I mean, the only people who have seen my wiener since I've been adult were a few doctors, and my dear, departed wife. I almost didn't show up, but I was trying to build a career of odd jobs, so I had to protect my reputation for reliability. So I arrived Thursday afternoon, and the old ladies greeted me warmly. One thing you have to understand about old people, something I didn't really 'get' until I worked for them for a year, is that they are young people in disguise. They still like to have fun, they are still vibrant in many ways, just sometimes more subtle ways. The time came where I had to disrobe and pose. It wasn't horrible. It almost seemed professional in a way. I simply wore the hat they gave me, held the tennis racket (a wierd prop, I know), and stood like I was swinging the thing for 20 minutes. At first I tried to hold still so hard that my muscles cramped, and I started sweating and shaking. The ladies informed me that some movement was totally OK. Whew! After a short break, I returned to the pose. During the break, I put my pants back on, but left my shirt off. The ladies informed me that most of the models don't bother covering themselves up between poses. I took that to mean they wanted me to remain naked during the snack session. Several of the women started conversations with me. The conversations continued into the next pose. They found out the story about my wife and my financial condition, and commiserated to a degree that made me uncomfortable. They must have seen that, because the topic turned somewhat. They started asking about Kaylie, my wife. I told her how spectacular she was before she got sick. One of the ladies coyly asked about our sex life. I didn't say much, just that it was good. Oh, and I volunteered that since Kaylie had trouble getting pregnant, we had to try all sorts of experiments, all involving sex, of course. That started something. All the ladies started tittering, whispering, and at other times talking too loudly about sex. The old things were becoming horny!  Fortunately for me, after the third 20 minute pose, I was out of there. They thanked me profusely, I thanked them for the money, and that was that. Oddly, that evening, I jerked off, remembering the art group, some of the ladies in particular, imagining crazy stuff, like them blowing me, and had a crashing orgasm. They wanted me to come back the next week. I was delighted, and it wasn't all about the money. Setting up the first pose, the women were particularly lively. They had me recline on a sofa. My dick kind of flopped down against my right upper thigh. Susan, one of the ladies didn't quite like that. Saying, "Can you do something different with your penis?" she set off gales of laughter. Not only that, she just reached forward, grabbed my penis, as casually as if it were my arm, and placed it differently, but it flopped back down. She grabbed it again, and it flopped down again. Meanwhile, all the women, with their eyes as big as saucers, were tittering up a storm. When she grabbed it those two times, I felt something like electric sparks run through my body. From the touch of an old, overweight, gray-haired lady. Go figure! Mary came right up to me, and took over for Susan. "Maybe like this, she said," and kind of stretched my dick outward before letting go. As you may have figured, I couldn't keep it soft. My penis started to enlarge, and I'm sure everyone knew what was going on. In a minute, it was fully erect, jutting straight out from my body. As if of a single mind, the ladies now wanted me to pose differently, They wanted a standing pose that exaggerated my now fully erect cock. Now, my face must have been six shades of red. This was terribly embarrassing, but at the same time it was great fun. Besides, surely there was no harm in letting a bunch of old women see me with an erection. I mean, it was totally weird, but no one was objecting. So, I held the pose for twenty minutes, staying rock-hard the whole time. I kind of wanted to touch it, maybe stroke it a bit, but thought better of it. During the break, I did not put my pants back on. I had coffee and biscuits with the ladies, and milled around with them, still erect. Gladys, probably the most outrageous of the lot, reached out, and gave my penis a single stroke when I walked past her. Oh, my! Approximately half-way through the second pose, I started wondering what Kaylie would think if she saw me now, and lost my erection. After a moment, I realized Kaylie would probably have been laughing and delighted to see my predicament with these old women, and even may have suggested I do something more, like stroke myself. The women expressed disappointment when I went soft. Gladys said, "Can you do something about that?" Of course I knew what she meant, but I played stupid. "Like what?" "Like this," she said as she stood up from behind her easel and approached me. She reached out, and started jerking me off. Really. Right there in front of the ladies. Within a minute, the others had gathered around, and at one point, I'd swear I had six hands on my cock and balls. I don't know who it was, but someone reached from behind, and started tickling the lower portion of my scrotum,. That did the job. My dick sprang to attention. I had no trouble staying hard through the last pose of the day. That evening, I jerked off again, delighted by the day's weird turn of events. The ladies invited me back for a third time. To my utter shock, there was another model there. She was Janet, approximately the same age as me, with delightful light skin, frizzy blond hair, and a radiant smile, not unlike Kaylie's smile. We were to pose as if ballroom dancing, with me holding Janet in a dip. I could do that! Holding her beautiful body really did something for me. It had been two years since I held Kaylie in my arms. Janet and I started whispering while we were posing, and oddly, the women were all studious in their art. They didn't interrupt us, didn't carry on at all. By the third pose, I started to get erect again. Janet surely knew, since my dick was brushing up against her hip. I was totally embarrassed, but she didn't say anything. At the end of the class, I saw some of the sketches, and they were such a turn on. Better than the real life that had just happened. There was Janet and I in a ballroom embrace, and it was totally sexy. Most of the women had captured my erect penis in their art. They also caught something I hadn't noticed. They showed Janet's nipples as erect. At the end of the class, Janet and I gladly exchanged phone numbers. You may have figured this out, but I didn't catch on at first. The ladies set us up! It turns out Jan and I were a perfect match. We were married four months ago, and she's pregnant. Don't worry, there's no chance that what happened to Kaylie will happen to her. Kaylie had suffereed from an unexpected genetic defect. I'm no longer posing for art classes, and neither is Janet. One of the women there was modeling us in clay. That fascinated Jan, and I wanted to play with it too, so she and I started experimenting with clay, doing our best to create erotic scenes involving couples. Our clay artistry wasn't very good, so we exaggerated the defects, making some very weird art indeed. Funny thing is, the first ones we put on Etsy sold right away. We listed more on several websites, and as much as we raised the prices, we couldn't make them fast enough. I won't say we're making a fortune, but we did manage to buy a three-bedroom house, have plenty in our savings accounts, and are starting to make investments. So now, we hire people to pose for us. Because of the nature of our work, our models have to get very sexual with each other, and everyone has a good time. I especially appreciate being able to pay these people to pose, since I remember how nice it was to make some money from modeling when I was down and out.